


Can't Lie to My Heart

by Syrenslure



Category: Roswell (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 20:13:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syrenslure/pseuds/Syrenslure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We played the game, but then we tossed the rules away… baby, I just can't lie to my heart. "</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Broken

**Author's Note:**

> Dedication: For the members of the Polar Attraction message board, who have helped me rediscover my muse, and to Ery who issued the challenge.
> 
> Challenge: Tess isn't evil, but she mindwarps Michael and Liz into having sex. Liz grows up and discovers passion, and desire, and learns what love really means.
> 
> Inspiration: Can't Lie to My Heart by Richard Marx

It was 8:17. Tess had been sitting here for over four hours, and she was bored out of her skull. She had thought that it would be good to hang out with Max, spend a little time with him, to further her cause, but nothing was going her way. She wanted to scream, but knew it would only further everyone's opinion that she was like some crazy girl that you pretended to patronize and then ignored.

First of all, they weren't even alone. Max had invited Isabel along, and somehow, she, instead of his sister, had ended up being the third wheel. That would have almost been acceptable, at this stage in their relationship, if she could have furthered her relationship with the other girl, as well as with Max - two birds and all that. She understood dating with a chaperone and she and Villandra had been very close once - best friends and confidants. 

She had hopes of regaining that closeness when she had first come to Roswell, had looked forward to have friends and a 'sister,' but this group was entirely too insular for their own good and decided that anyone else was the enemy. It didn't matter that she was one of them, that she was the queen and the only one with training and knowledge to face their real enemies. She had been relegated to the status of interloper, and her budding friendship with Isabel had died a quick death. Now, all she got were condescending looks and disdainful glares. Isabel had pointedly ignored her all night.

Max, on the other hand, hadn't even extended that much effort. He was absolutely clueless and didn't seem to care at all about his responsibilities to her and their people. All he cared about was the human girl that he had almost jeopordized everything for. He had spent the entire fricken' night staring at Liz. The girl had blown him off, even slept with her ex-boyfriend, and he still sniffed after her, like a lost puppy.

She almost gave the girl credit for so thoroughly enchanting him, and would have thought the other girl was playing some game, if she hadn't noticed Liz's obvious frustration and irritation at Max's attempts at subtle stalking. Despite Max's love struck mooning over her, she seemed impervious to his attentions. However, Max was not buying a clue, and he certainly wasn't turning to her and what she was offering him, despite the fact that she was his chosen mate, not the mousy brunette waitress.

She really didn't understand it. What was it about the other girl that drove everyone to act like an idiot? It certainly wasn't her looks - she had a body like a ten-year-old boy - certainly no competition there. She wasn't even putting out, the incident with Kyle aside. Yet, all the boys tripped over themselves, trying to catch the attention of little Miss Parker, af if she were some great treasure of the universe. Even Michael's wasn't immune to her charms, if the way his eyes followed her as she moved around the cafe was any indication.

The worst part was, other than he apparent irritation at Max's overly obvious attentions, the girl didn't even seem to notice. Surely, no one could be that damn naive or innocent. After all, she managed to keep both Kyle and Max hanging on a string. Everyone wanted Liz and she acted like she was too good for any of them, kept them dangling for the scraps of her affection.

Tess had thought that things were finally going her way. Liz seemed to be accepting Max's destiny, She broke up with him and told him that his future was with Tess. She had even been nice and offered to help Tess to attract Max's attention. It went against every instinct that she had, to listen to the mousy brunette, and she hadn't wanted to trust the other girl, or even admit that she might need help claiming what should have been rightfully hers to begin with. She almost felt vindicated when Max ran after Liz that day. Still, she realized that Liz must have been at least a little sincere, when she found Max in the park that night. After all, Max keep ignore her words and try to sugarcoat her intensions, but he was still a man, even if he didn't act like it, and their wasn't much spin to put on the fact that Liz had been in bed with another guy when she had barely let Max get to second base.

Unfortunately, she had to be sympathetic and hear all about every detail, of every moment, of Liz and Max's relationship and his protests that he didn't understand how she could do that to him. Yet, he was more determined than ever to believe that he and Liz were 'fated' to be together, their past lives, genetic engineering and alien monarchies aside. It didn't help that, whatever had happened that night, Kyle and Liz didn't seem to actually be dating, and Max took that as a sign that she could still be his. He held onto every crumb of hope, and was probably ready to "forgive her mistake." Idiot.

If it weren't for their destiny, she wasn't even sure that she would want such a pitiful excuse for a mate. She rolled her eyes in exasperation. Of course, Isabel had taken that moment to look at her and caught the expression. Her face darkened like a storm cloud, and she reached across the table to catch Max's arm. "Max, it's getting late. We should head home. You know mom doesn't like us out too late on a school night."

Perfect. Isabel had convinced Max to leave, and made a point of excluding Tess in the process, and of course Max responded exactly as she wanted him to. The only hesitation Max showed was in the way his eyes darted around the cafe, landing on Liz, who was standing near the register, then back to Isabel. "Um, ok, Iz. Just let me pay the check, and I'll drive you home."

He didn't spare her a thought, as if he didn't realize that she had been sitting right next to him the entire night. He was already out of the booth and grabbing his things before he even saw Tess. "Did you need a ride, too? I could drop you off on the way."

Isabel stood there with her hands on her hips and glared at her, making her opinion clear. She was tempted to accept, just to spite the other girl. Instead, she waved them off. "No, I'm going to hang here a little longer. I'll see you in school tomorrow." She tried to smile, but it froze, half-formed on her face, at Max's obvious relief.

She turned away to hide her frustration - there was no need to give Isabel more ammunition to use against her -  and sipped her cherry-vanilla Dr. Pepper, so that she didn't have to watch them leave. This situation was totally unacceptable. She wasn't going to put up with this shit much longer, and neither would Nasedo. She needed a plan and she needed one fast. 

She had no idea what else she could do at this point. She was already imitating Max's kicked puppy behavior a little more than she liked. He just couldn't see anything or anyone beyond Liz Parker. She had felt like she was getting close that night he had seen Liz with Kyle, but it was one-step forward, two-steps back dance ever since.

Maybe, that was the answer. If seeing her with another guy could send Max into her arms for one night, maybe, Liz needed to move on to someone else, permanently. Maybe, she should give her and Kyle a little nudge. They had history and a little chemistry. Except, there were to many ways that could go wrong, and Max obviously didn't see the other guy as a threat. There was that tall, skinny kid that she hung out with, Alex. However, she seemed to treat him like a brother and, he seemed to be pretty hung up on Isabel.  Max wouldn't believe that either.

It had to be someone that would rattle Max, enough that he would give up on Liz. It also had to someone who could take care of Liz, and keep her occupied, while she worked on Max. After she found someone who would qualify, then, she had to figure out some way to get them together. It was making her head hurt.

When she was all but ready to give it up for the night, a snatch of conversation, across the cafe, caught her attention. Liz was leaning up against the window to the kitchen, trading insults with Michael, as he filled an order for her. The way those to bantered absolutely screamed sexual tension.

Perfect. Absolutely, fucking perfect.

Liz and Michael - Max would hate it. Tess knew him well enough to know that the insults and barbed remarks that he sent in Michael's direction spoke more of his own insecurities and jealousies than they did about Michael. It might also cause Michael to lighten the fuck up, if he got laid for a change. He really needed to ditch that blonde twit that was always hanging all over him and whining. Even though they were in an "off-again" state of their fucked up relationship, the girl seriously messed with his control. She was just a distraction. At least Liz was occasionally helpful, and Michael seemed to be able to put her in her place, if necessary.

The only question was how she was ever going to get those two together. Other than Liz's little fling, they were both incredibly loyal, and didn't seem to have very much in common at all besides chemistry. Still, she felt a little better and smiled sincerely, for the first time all night. She would just have to give them a little "push."


	2. Chapter 1: Lost

Tess spent the next few days watching Liz and Michael, and was finally rewarded one night as Max and Isabel left the cafe. She saw the brunette girl breathe an obvious sigh of relief, then sagged back against the wall. Michael, who had been watching her like a hawk all evening, caught her response and raised an eyebrow, in a sardonic expression.

"You ok, Parker?"

His tone was gruff and indifferent, but Tess was learned to read him. She had figured out that he didn't bother, if he didn't mean it.  He was showing an interest.

Liz offered him an obviously fake, overly sunny smile in return. "Peachy. Can't you tell?"

He just shook his head and went back to the grill.

Tess continued her surveillance from the corner of her booth, while trying not to appear obvious. The more she saw, the more convinced she became that her plan could work. These two weren't as antagonistic as everyone assumed.

She was so lost in her own thoughts, that she was startled to see Liz slide a fresh soda onto the table in front of her. It looked like the other girl was going to say something. She even opened her mouth to speak, before closing it again. She could almost see Liz change her mind and slide into her waitress persona, like a mask, hiding whatever she was thinking, before she asked if Tess needed anything else. She demurred, of course, but found herself curious about what Liz's first impulse had been.

They weren't friends, despite their few shared confidences. They were a bit more than passing acquaintances. She wondered what it would have been like to have been here from the beginning with them, to be friends with Liz or to have continued her friendship with Isabel. She had never really had a girlfriend. The brief glipse she had of the possibilities had been an almost heady experience.

It was too late for that now, anyway. Could have beens wouldn't help her now. She had a plan to accomplish. It was time to put that into motion. It was getting late; the other customers were gone. It was time for her to go too.  She put some money on the table for her soda and a generous tip, and called out a goodbye to Liz, to let her know that she was leaving. She tried not to take the other girl's obvious relief personally. It was late, after all. She almost succeeded.

If anything, that minor irritation was enough to firm her resolve. It was one more frisson of rejection, one more reminder that she was different and alone. It was a constant itch under her borrowed skin, a voice that whispered in her ear that she was not one of them. This was not her true face - her true body - and they would all tremble before her like a goddess, if they knew what she was capable of.

She would show them. She would show them all - but first, there was this little thing, this task to accomplish - step by step. Strategy and knowledge were here friends and would never fail her. Those were the lessons that she had learned - in this life, and in the last. She wasn't a goddess, but a Queen and her gift was to bend others to her will.

These were the thoughts that she used to bolster herself, a mantra of power, to prepare herself for her task, as she used her powers to release the lock on the backdoor of the Crashdown and slip unnoticed into the break room. She drew her strength around her in preparation, and reached out with her mind to the two who occupied the front of the restaurant.

It was easier than she thought that it would be. They were both tired, relaxed. Michael and Liz were sitting at the counter, drinking sodas, more comfortable with each other than she thought that they would be. That would work in her favor.

She just wanted a little peek. She needed to know what she had to work with, and just how far she would have to push in order for this to work. There had to be something there, something she could build on, and she was determined to find it.  If nothing else, she knew that they were attracted to each other, even if they didn't realize it.

At first there didn't seem to be much to find. For all that they spent a lot of time together, it was all so mundane - work, alien crisis, blah, blah, school... Wait. Right there.

<ul><em>She's standing in front of him in a dingy little trailer obviously uncomfortable, but trying not to let it show, and he's urging her outside, wanting to get her away from Hank, listening intently as he tries to understand why she would come to him. "You’re sure it was my records, it was definitely my records?"

"Yeah."

"She asked about me in class?"

"Oh, well she was just taking attendance and so when you weren’t there, she asked the class if anyone knew you."

"So she’s looking for me."  
   
"I don’t know what’s going on, Michael. I just thought I should tell you."  
   
"Thanks."

"Sure."

The silence is awkward between them for a moment, and he feels the need to apologize for making her come to this place where she doesn't belong. He still doesn't understand why she did, but he is surprisingly grateful to her. "Listen, if Hank insulted you or anything..."

"Oh no, no."

"You kind of have to ignore him."

"Sorry... to just show up here."

"It’s where I live. Thanks." </em></ul>

So, they had secrets, things that the others didn't know. It wasn't much, but Liz had gone out of her way to help him, even after Max had blown her off. There had to be more. After all, Liz wasn't the kind to back down, and Michael wasn't someone who easily accepted kindness. He didn't know much of it - Nasedo had filled her in on his background, and Tess had been watching him for months - yet, he let Liz in where even Isabel and Max feared to tread.

<ul><em>He's there in the cafe with her, she's uneasy, a little afraid, but not of him, or she hides it well. He speaks to her. "I want you to know it wasn't smart to write all those things down, Liz."

"Yeah...I know that now."

"I knew it a week ago."

"Excuse me?"

"That was the night I sat at the first booth. Maybe you remember. It was late like tonight and you were at the counter...writing. ... it wasn't homework, was it?"

"No, it wasn't."

"You could have put us in an awful spot, Liz. Roswell's not exactly the town you want to be unique in, if you know what I mean. You have to know who your friends are. I had to know the risk...so I had to know what your journal said."

"You took it..."

"I never meant for things to get out of control...it's nice to know we have at least one friend in this town."

"Does Max know that you..."

"No...and you know what would be really great? If you didn't tell him."

"But why didn't you just destroy this, Michael? Because anyone that found this would know all about you."

"No...they'd know all about you, Liz."

"Thank you for giving me one more reason to envy Max Evans."  Michael leaves, turning back for one last quip, then the memory faded away. One last image drifted up from his mind. Max was speaking to him and Isabel. "Liz wouldn't say. She said a good friend brought it back."</em></ul>

It echoed in her head, <em>"Envy Max. You didn't tell him. A good friend."</em> She could work with that. There was trust between them, a sort of intimacy. She pulled back and broke off the connection. She stumbled against the door, her head feeling like it was splitting in two. Getting into Michael's head was like seeing through a brick wall. She had to get out of there. She heard Michael coming to investigate the noise, and she couldn't get caught when she was so close.

  
*****

She was careful not to tip her hand, or to show any unusual interest in the pair, and for a change, Max's obsession worked in her favor, as he was seldom out of sight of Liz any more than was absolutely necessary. She also made sure to drop careful little gems into her conversations with everyone to plant the first seeds and to glean whatever information she could. She was never obvious - she couldn't afford to be - and most of the time she reaped nothing but frustration as her subtle jabs didn't hit the mark.

Still, she was prepared the next time she had an opportunity to find them alone together. She started out slowly, doing little more than raising the tensions between them, increasing the awareness that they had for each other. She danced through their thoughts, playing on emotions, attractions. They moved closer and closer to each other, caught in her web. It was a heady feeling as she manipulated their minds, changing their destiny to fit her own.

"First, a kiss," she thought, preparing to heighten their emotions, their reactions. It had to be memorable, special - no teenage fumbling to be dismissed as a mistake, forgotten and left behind.

They resisted a bit. Loyalty and friendship warred with desire. They were known for these and they were strong emotions to overcome. It was one thing to make someone interact with a situation that she had created, another to make him or her act against his or her nature. Sweat began to form along her hairline, and she struggled against her failure. She offered assurances and nudges to their subconscious desires, weaving their feelings together. She didn't want to force it. The connection between them had to last when she was done, not send them spiraling away from each other in shock. 'Work with what is already there,' she reminded herself.

Finally, she felt the tension between them break, and the barriers melted away. Michael reached for Liz, and she flowed toward him. His lips met hers in a kiss.

"Yes!" Tess' mental exclamation transmitted itself along the bond and was matched by Michael and Liz's pleasure at the contact. Their kiss increased in ardency and he reacted by wrapping his hand in her hair and pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. Her hands clutched at the soft cotton of his t-shirt, and she explored his mouth in turn.

The entire thing was spread out before her in slow motion. The threads of their thoughts were hers to manipulate and twist to her purposes. She pulled back a bit, amazed at how easy it had been. She merely had to suppress their inhibitions.

She was still congratulating herself when it all fell apart. Liz's hip nudged the counter. The glass of soda that Michael had been drinking tipped over spilling its contents to the floor with a crash and splashed over them. The shock and resulting cold shower they received caused them to spring apart guiltily. The fire between them was doused, and left them both feeling a little burned.

Tess felt herself slammed out of their minds, as they both reacted in shock, re-erecting the barriers of their minds. She stumbled and caught herself on the edge of the couch. There was nothing more that she could do tonight. Bright halos danced before her eyes and a knife-sharp pain lanced her right temple in another headache. She made her way to the door. Once again, she was skulking away before they found her and started asking questions.

"Still," she told herself, "It was a start." They weren't unnattracted to each other. They had kissed. It was something to build on. It would be easier next time.

*****

The next few days proved her wrong, though, and she was quickly becoming frustrated. Michael and Liz barely looked at each other and were antsy whenever they were in each other's presence. They had also strengthened the barriers in their minds, as if they were warding against her intrusion.

That was silly, of course. They had no way of knowing that she was responsible. They were just overreacting to the kiss. If she wanted to think positively, she could even suggest that their silly behavior was working in her favor. As much as they were trying to avoid each other, their guilt was also making them avoid Maria, and, more importantly, Max.

Even the King of Obliviousness was beginning to notice - and whine. She pretended to listen and be supportive, but her enthusiasm was as half-hearted as his own toward her. She knew he only talked to her because Isabel had grown tired of listening and he was too spineless to openly confront Michael or Liz about their behavior. Still, she supposed that was progress.

She bided her time for almost two weeks, waiting for another opportunity. She couldn't watch them all of the time, but she saw when Liz steeled her resolve to pretend that nothing had happened and Michael's relief and acceptance of her new attitude. Thankfully, they were quite predictable.

She decided to give them a few more days to relax their guard, while she worked on her plans, and was rewarded when another opportunity presented itself. Liz's parents had gone out of town for the weekend and Michael was closing with her Friday night. Max was busy working his own shift at the UFO center. Maria was stuck doing a girl's night with her mom, and Isabel and her adoring pals were having a movie night. No one would be around to interfere with her plans. It was time to give them another nudge.

She waited until late and let herself into the backdoor again. Unlike last time, there was no relaxing after-shift decompression session, just two people working hard to ignore each other's presence. Of course, that just meant that they were ultra-aware of each other.

She used that. Liz entered the kitchen with a tray of sugar jars and Tess reached out with her mind and gave her a little push, so that she started to trip. Michel reacted quickly, reaching out to steady her. He caught her in his arms and held her for a moment, the tray caught between them.

She felt the flare of desire in him before Michael released her and stepped back, quickly. "Walk much, Parker?"

"Go to hell, Michael."  Tess could sense that she was irritable and tired, and confused by the hot and cold way she felt around him.

"Been there, done that, and I have this *lovely* shirt to show for it, " he replied, pulling his Crashdown t-shirt away from his sweaty chest.

Liz froze in the act of putting the tray on the counter and stared at his chest, drawn to where his fingered plucked at the damp cotton. She licked her lips and Michael stepped back, once more.

Tess concentrated, urging her on and Liz stepped forward, backing Michael against the grill.

"I can assure you, Michael. This isn't hell..." She ran her hand down her neck and along the top of her uniform, where the top button had come undone. "... Hot, though, as it may be."

Michael swallowed convulsively and blinked.

Liz smirked in satisfaction at getting the best of his stonewall composure, and turned to walk away.

It only took the slightest nudge for him to retaliate and reach for her, pulling her back toward him. He caught her mid-reach, pulling supplies off the shelf, and she fell, off-balance, into his arms. He turned her around and began to devour her mouth.

Tess was torn between extreme pride and major revulsion as they began to grope each other like wild animals. It was like watching a train wreck. She couldn't look away; she didn't want to break the connection yet. She had a compulsion to see this through.

They were moving along quite passionately without her help. Michael had lifted Liz to sit on the prep table and stood between her legs, which were wrapped around his hips. She was tugging at the hem of his t-shirt, trying to pull it free from his jeans. He helped her to pull it off and then reached for the sides of her uniform and yanked hard, tearing it over. Buttons bounced off of steel and tile in counterpoint to their labored breathing.

They kissed again. It was getting seriously hot in here. Tess could feel the sweat trailing down her back and dampening her hair. They were so close. She couldn't stop now.

Neither could they. Everything they felt was reflected back to her along the link she had initiated, and she did her best to feed it back to them as they came together in this. Michael ran the back of his hand along the inside of Liz's thigh. The cool metal of his ring was a teasing contrast to their passion-warmed skin. When he reached the apex, he ran his fingers along the damp crotch of her panties and leaned forward, pressing his arousal against her sweet spot.  Her legs tightened and she started to pull back, beginning to panic at the realization of what was happening. Tess pushed along the link, teasing them with images and feelings of what would happen, what had happened, overcoming her resistance.

Even as Liz began to capitulate, Tess began to get frustrated. "Damn, what's it going to take to get this girl laid? She's acting like some virgin school-girl." Tess knew that this wasn't the case. After all, she had heard, ad nauseum, the details of Kyle and Liz's tryst, from Max. Then she felt it, the moment where they both surrendered completely and passed the point of no return. It was like a wave breaking over them and crashing to the shore. They were no longer fighting their instincts, but had fully immersed themselves in the moment. She smiled and waited just a few minutes more, unwilling to let go completely, in case either had a sudden attack of inhibitions.

Her worries were in vain, as Liz bit down on Michael's collarbone and fumbled with his belt. He used a combination of his powers and brute strength to tear away her panties and she pulled open the front of his jeans. Her uniform was bunched up around her waist and he nuzzled her breasts. He leaned forward to suck one into his mouth as he positioned himself at her entrance, with one hand, and used the other to pull back on her hair. She arched her back and he nipped and suckled at her passionately.

Tess broke the link then, knowing that nothing short of an earthquake would stop them now. She had made this possible, but that didn't mean that she actually wanted to stay and witness it. She may twist peoples' minds, but she found little pleasure in watching the results. Some things were too personal, even for her.  She actually wished them luck, maybe even a little happiness, and not only because it would help her achieve her own goals.

She tried to tell herself that the shiver of disgust that she felt as she let herself into the alley behind the Crashdown was for the obvious sounds of pleasure that she heard from the kitchen, and not because of what she had just done. After all, she hadn't created the feelings between them, just taken advantage of them. Once again, she almost succeeded in convincing herself. After all, illusions were her specialty.


	3. Chapter 2: Thinking Of You

Liz stood in front of her mirror, watching herself, as the lights flickered overhead. A storm was raging outside, but its savage fury could barely match the turmoil that she felt inside of herself at this moment. She had stumbled up here an hour ago, clutching her ruined uniform, and had gone straight to her bathroom and turned on the shower. As she turned on the water, and stood beneath it, she had been glad that her parents were gone for the weekend and had not been witness to her disheveled state.

Even now, as she stood, dripping and freshly scrubbed, in front of her mirror, it seemed obvious what she had been doing this evening. Reddish bruises and passion marks stood out starkly on her pale golden skin with each flash of lightning. A deep ache had settled itself in her core, and her stomach tightened in remembered passion, as she traced the path of the marks Michael had left.

He hadn't escaped unmarked, either. She had seen at least one prominent bite on his collarbone and several scratches on his shoulders and stomach as he had pulled his t-shirt back over his head. She spared a thought for his safety and hope that he had gotten home before the worst of the storm hit. This was one more conflicting thought in her mind.

The lights were out now and the rain was beating a furious tattoo against her window. The jagged lightning seemed to haunt her with glimpses of her passion marked body and the teasing memories that played against the dark backdrop between strikes. Michael. Michael. Each clap of thunder was a cadence for the feeling of him thrusting into her body, point and counterpoint, as she pushed back.

She ran her hands through the damp strands of her hair, untangling it, and she recalled his hands pulling on it in passion, forcing her head back and exposing her to his gaze, his touch, and his mouth.

What had she been thinking? She wondered, replaying the memories over and over, searching frame by frame for the one thing that she could have done differently, one moment when she could have changed the course of their actions. She found none. She hadn't been thinking, she admitted to herself, only feeling.

She longed to climb out onto her balcony and fling her arms out wide, spinning under the storm that raged overhead. She felt like she already had, but that wasn't who she was. She was sensible and smart and she didn't do things like dance naked in thunderstorms, and catch raindrops on her tongue, and drown herself in the rain like a pagan goddess.

Liz snorted. She also didn't have sex in the kitchen of her parents' restaurant with strange boys - men. ...And Michael was admittedly as strange as they came. Then again, before tonight, she didn't have sex at all - but here she was. She had sex tonight. "I fucked Michael," she said aloud to her image, rolling the coarse word around her tongue.

Good girls didn't "fuck." They certainly didn't fuck their best friend's ex-boyfriend, their ex-boyfriend's best friend. "Oh God, Maria. Max." The latter was said quietly, almost a whisper, but it was the first that tore at her heart.

Maria may be flighty and tend to bounce around strangely, but she was loyal and a good friend. They had been close for longer than they had even known Max and Michael. Liz knew her and knew that Maria didn't forgive easily, and would never forgive this. While she had seen firsthand how intimate Maria and Michael had been, she was pretty sure that they had never, "gone beyond," as Maria had put it that day in the Crashdown. She certainly would not forgive Liz for going there first, with the man that she loved.

So much for not losing my virginity between the deep fryer and the kielbasa, she thought somewhat hysterically. This was not how she had pictured this happening. Only a few weeks ago, she had told Future Max that she wasn't ready to do this yet, and she had meant it. It seemed that the universe had other plans, both in that reality and in this.

As her hand trailed down to her stomach, that last thought caused her eyes to widen in surprise, an expression caught in the mirror, like an eerie afterimage, as she recalled that they hadn't used any birth control. Not only had she acted irresponsibly, she had been doubly irresponsible about it. She had visited her doctor after Future Max's visit, but she wasn't due to start her pills until her next period. While she hadn't believed the possibility existed, especially since she had taken the warnings to heart and was no longer seeing Max, she did believe in better safe than sorry.

Right now, she was very sorry. She scrambled to her desk, and waited for the next flash of lightening as she grabbed her calendar. She sighed in relief and sank down into her chair, as she realized that her period was due in four days - three now that midnight had passed, and it was technically Saturday. There was little chance that she could be pregnant and by Tuesday she could have confirmation of that.

That just left her to decide what she was going to do about Michael. She would be busy this weekend, running the cafe in her parents' absence. The shifts that she was covering didn't coincide with his. She breathed a sigh of relief at the knowledge that they would have some space. The stunned expression on his face, as he had lifted himself from her body and tugged on his clothing assured her that he was looking forward to confrontation as little as she was.

She just had to pretend it was like before. Nothing had happened. Nothing happened. Nothing happened. It was a mantra in her mind that she willed herself to believe. She had done it before - the first time, when they kissed. She ignored the desire that memory caused in her. She carried this resolve with her as she crawled into bed, not bothering with pajamas. Scarlett O'Hara had nothing on her. She would worry about it tomorrow.

What she really meant, was that she would ignore it as long as possible, and pretend it didn't happen, and hope that "tomorrow" - the day she had to deal with it - never came.

Saturday was looking to be cooperative in that. She had overslept, since the storm had knocked out her alarm clock with the rest of the power. Luckily, it had come back on a few hours after she was asleep, so she hadn't had to worry too much about the freezers and refrigerators in the restaurant, but the red 12:00 had flashed at her accusingly as she stumbled out of bed.

Her hair was a mess, since she had gone to bed with it wet, and she didn't feel like messing with it, so she pulled it back into a ponytail, and twisted it into a bun, savagely thrusting clips into it, to hold it in place. Her masochistic satisfaction at conquering this challenge faded in a wave from the top of her head, all the way to her toes, as she reached for her uniform from the previous night. There was no way that she could wear this today - or ever again, for that matter.

She pulled open her closet and stuffed it into a bag near the back. Hysterical laughter threatened to spill from her throat as she thought of the last time she had to hide her uniform after an alien encounter. At least this time, she hadn't died. Well, only a little... She almost gave in. A little death... isn't that what they called sex? No, not sex - orgasm - that one moment when the world fades away and nothing exists outside of you, like death. Her breath caught and her stomach trembled in sympathy. She could feel herself getting damp, teasing her resolve to forget the pleasure she had felt last night.

She was not going to give in. She had work to do. She savagely yanked a clean uniform out of her closet and stomped all the way downstairs. She barely managed to finish the prep work she had left last night and unlock the doors in time. As it was, she was greeted by snide remarks from Agnes, who complained that she didn't want to be there, and could just go home, if she had to stand around and wait all day.

Liz had no sympathy for her - or for anyone else for that matter. It was hard to tell who was more relieved, Liz, or the staff, when she secluded herself in the office a few hours later. Michael was working the swing shift today, with Tommy who was covering the morning, and Jose, who was closing. She figured that six or so hours was just enough time to do the receipts, make her deposit and get a head start on the schedule for next week. Tomorrow would be payroll and orders for the coming week.

Liz had a plan and she stuck with it. She was nothing if not determined. She was just doing the work that her father would have done, if he had been there. It was part of being a good daughter, and a responsible member of the family that owned and operated the restaurant.

She wasn't avoiding Michael, of course... at least that's what she told herself until it was time for her to get ready for school on Monday. She didn't have to avoid anyone. It was in the past. There was nothing that she could do to change it, but she didn't have to dwell on it either.

Maria picked her up, in the Jetta, a half hour later, and Liz practiced taking deep breaths and trying to stay calm. Some strange part of her wanted to blurt out what happened and beg for forgiveness, but she knew this was a secret that she would take to her grave. Instead, she played the attentive friend and listened to Maria ramble about the mandatory "fun" she had with her mother, glad that her bubbly friend required only half-hearted sounds of sympathy during her tale.

When Maria pulled into the parking lot at the school and seemed to notice that Liz had been strangely quiet during the ride, she assured her that she was just tired from running the cafe all weekend, by herself. Maria shrugged, but gave her a piercing look. Luckily, Alex arriving soon distracted her, and Liz fought back her panic at the reprieve.

Vaguely, she wondered if Maria's cedar oil really was good for stress, and what the chances were of her getting some without arousing the other girl's suspicions further. She laughed at herself, and that seemed to buoy her spirits enough for her to gather her books for the next class.

She almost made it. She was walking alone, down the hall to her advanced English class, when she felt someone reach out and pull her into the eraser room. She barely held back a screech, before she composed herself to turn and berate Max for his actions. Except, it wasn't Max who was standing there.

It was Michael. He saw the tension in her and smirked a bit at her stunned expression, when she realized who it was. It was fleeting though, and he dragged his hand through his hair. "Chill, Parker. I just thought that we needed to talk."

"I don't think so, Michael."

He raised an eyebrow, as if to say, "Oh, really?" "Look, Parker, I just wanted to make sure things were clear between us."

"Trust me, Michael; there is no 'us.'"

"Good. Last thing I need is for Miss Goody-two-shoes, to go running off at the mouth and tell your boyfriend - or Maria - what happened."

She snorted indignantly. "You think I want anyone to know? ...And Max is not my boyfriend."

He smiled, in a sneering kind of way, at her protest. "Good. After all, it was just sex. It's not like it's any big deal."

"Oh... and that's why you dragged me into the eraser room to threaten me, if I told anyone, right, Michael?"

"Well, hey, I've got a rep to maintain after all."

"More like an ass to save, if anyone found out."

"I wasn't exactly fucking myself, Liz... as I recall, you were an active participant. I even have the scratches to prove it."

"Go to hell, Michael."

"Is that an invitation, Parker? After all - that's what you said last time."

"Oh! You...!" Liz groaned in angry frustration. She poked his chest with her finger. "Listen up, Michael. I don't know what sick fantasy you have running through your head, but it's not going to happen again. You can forget it. I already have."

"Sure you have, Liz. That's why you are standing here with me, breathing hard, and aroused, instead of sitting in class, where you belong."

"You... You pulled me in here!"

Michael shrugged. "Maybe, but you stayed."

"I am not going to play these games with you."

Then, Michael did smile. "Then why are you still here?" He reached for her, and pulled her hard against his body. In one motion, he tilted her head back and leaned in to kiss her.

Her head was spinning and she could feel her arousal growing, just like the hardening length of his penis, where it pressed against her stomach. Instead of pushing him away, her hands had turned traitor to her, and were clutching at his shirt, trying to get him closer. Remembrances of his skin against hers flashed through her mind, as he deepened the kiss, stroking her tongue with his, in and out of her mouth, like the rhythm they had found on the stainless steel tabletop three nights ago.

Then she was falling, or almost. He pulled away from her so quickly, that she almost stumbled. For one moment, his expression matched the surprise that she felt, but it was quickly masked. His mask was quickly back in place; the only evidence of his confusion was his nervous habit of scratching his eyebrow, in evidence as he stared at her. Then he was gone, pushing by her in the small space without even acknowledging her presence.

Liz was in shock. She didn't know what had gotten into her. She tried firmly to shake the thought that whatever it was, it was quickly becoming addictive.

She was late for class. It was too late for her to show up with any kind of dignity, anyway. Besides, if she looked at all like she felt, she should probably just tape a sign to her chest that said, "Was making out in Eraser Room," and be done with it. She said and quickly made her way to the girl's bathroom, sending up a short prayer for empty halls.

She was lucky for once, and she made it, without being accosted. She washed her face, brushed her hair, and tried to remove all traces of her encounter. By the time the bell rang for the next period, she was feeling much better and more in control of her raging emotions.

Unfortunately, it didn't last long. As the bell rang again, and Mr. Spencer rose at the front of the class, she caught Tess staring at her from across the room. The blonde gave her a friendly smile, but something about it set her on edge. A shiver of panic raced down her spine and she almost snapped her pencil in half. Something in her panicked and a single irrational thought echoed through her mind. "She knows."

*****

For the next three periods, Liz wished futilely that she bit her nails, so that she would have something to do until she could finally corner Michael again, at lunch, about Tess. Where the heck did he get off being responsible and going to class when she needed to talk to him? Apparently, telepathy wasn't one of his gifts, she thought to herself, and then earned a look of askance from Mr. Sommers when she snorted aloud in the middle of his lectures about The Reconstruction Era.

At the bell, she is out of her seat, like a shot, and rudely pushing her way past her classmates to make it to the art room before Michael had a chance to wander off. Luckily, it was the one class a day that he was almost guaranteed to attend, and he wasn't always in a hurry to leave. She didn't care about the whispers and rumors that were starting to build around her at her out of character behavior, only that she found out how much Tess could possibly know and what she intended to do about it.

Luckily, he was where he was supposed to be, though Claire Waterston seemed to be lingering at his side trying to get his attention. He wasn't really paying her any mind, and barely grunting his half of the conversation, but it still irked her, and she could feel her temper rising. She glared at the other girl until she got the message and quickly left. Liz closed the door firmly behind her, and leaned against it, still gripping the handle.

"We need to talk," she hissed at Michael.

He raised an eyebrow in her direction, and went back to smudging the charcoal on the paper pinned to his easel. "I thought you said that there was nothing to talk about. Or was that your euphemism for wanting to jump me again?"

"What…" She sputtered, "I didn't… look, you've obviously got them lining up. Already working on your next victim, I see, but I'm serious. Tess knows."

"Knows what?" His brow wrinkled as he frowned at her.

"She knows." Liz drew the word out in exaggeration and made a face, as if to indicate that her meaning was obvious.

"What! Why the hell would you tell her of all people? Shit! She's going to tell Max, and that's the last thing we need." He ran his fingers through his hair and left a streak of charcoal along his cheek.

"I didn't tell her! Are you crazy?"

"Wait. What? Who did you tell, then?"

"I didn't tell anybody."

"Well, neither did I."

"She knows. She looked at me in class and she smiled."

"That's all. You're having a panic attack because Tess smiled at you. Great." He mumbled something under his breath that she couldn't hear, but sounded like he was calling her crazy.

"I'm not crazy. She has never smiled at me in the entire time she's been in Roswell, unless she was up to something. I don't know how she knows, or how I know that she knows, but she does, and I do, and you've got to fix it."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know, but maybe she'll listen to you. You guys are kind of friends. She hates me."

"We're not friends." He sighed. "Maybe this doesn't have anything to do with us, or with her. You're just a bit paranoid, Liz."

She clenched her jaw and put her hands on her hips. "I live in Roswell, New Mexico with real life aliens, while other aliens and the FBI trying to hunt me down and kill me – of, course I'm paranoid, that doesn't mean it's not true."

"What are you, a bumper sticker, now?"

Liz shrieked in frustration. "Just humor me, then. Maybe, she was at the Crash last night. Maybe, she saw something. I don't know."

"It was after closing, Liz. No one was there but you and me. No one was hanging around when I left."

"I get it, ok? But," Liz bit her lower lip, "What if she was there? Would we even know? What if she did something?"

"Like mind warp us into having sex?"

"Well, it wasn't exactly normal behavior for us."

Michael snorted and threw down the charcoal. "Whatever gets you through the day, Parker. Okay? Now, just leave, okay? I'll talk to her. Just leave me alone."

"Right," Liz flushed and dropped her head as she turned to leave.

  
*****

Michael didn't do subtle. He walked right up to Tess, where she was perched on the bleachers watching Max run laps and asked her what the hell is going on.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she denied breezily, but he could spot it for the lie that it was.

"Look. I'm not the idiot you seem to think I am, and I may not know what it is exactly that you've done, but that doesn't mean that I don't know that you did it."

She just looked at him with an expression of feigned innocence.

"Fine," he stood up. "We'll just get Max and Isabel over here and maybe you can just tell us all what's going on."

She looked down her nose at him, even though he was three feet above her, and called his bluff, with a voice that resembled the purr of a contented cat. "I don't think you really want to do that. After all, then you might have to explain what you were doing with Liz, and you don't want to do that."

"No, I don't," he admitted gruffly. "That doesn't mean I don't want to nail you to the nearest wall for what you did. Or that they'd even believe you. I'm family; they don't even like you."

Her face fell, and then took on a waspish expression. "Maybe not, but I did you a favor. Hell, it wasn't even that hard. You guys were already sniffing around each other, already keeping secrets, already attracted to each other; I just gave you a hand in the right direction."

"You don't know what the hell you…"

She held up a petite hand. "Don't bother lying to me, Michael, even if you want to lie to yourself. I know what I saw. I know what you felt. You liked her. You wanted her. You got her. Let it go."

"You think it's just that simple. I'm with Maria. She's with Max. You don't do that to people you care about, Tess."

"She's not with Max. Oh, not that Max isn't acting like her personal lapdog, ready to heel at the snap of her fingers, but she's telling the truth about it being over. As for Maria," Tess shrugged, "What she doesn't know can't hurt her, right? Or you."

"Yeah, that's not going to last long, if you go spouting off to Max about what happened, trying to get in his good graces by dragging Liz through the mud."

"Yeah, well, Max probably wouldn't believe me anyway, or end up blaming me for the whole thing, like you said."

"We've both got things to lose, then."

"Maybe," she admitted, trying to act nonchalant and failing.

"Look, just keep your mouth shut, and stay the hell out of my head. And Liz'. You've 'helped' enough, okay? Now mind your own damn business."

"Whatever."

"Fine."


End file.
